Ben Ryder - Englishmen 3 - Released

by Ben Ryder

“What do you mean? What do you feel guilty for?”

  191Reed looked down into his glass with deep sadness in

  his eyes. He was reflecting, so I gave him the time to collect his thoughts. He drew a deep breath before he responded. “Well, to be honest, I think a lot of what my father did was my fault. He firmly believed that people chose to be gay, or that they didn’t work hard enough to be straight. He believed that because, to his mind, I showed him that people could change. And I did nothing to disabuse him of that conviction.”

  There was an elegantly tragic logic to this thought. I started to understand some of the demons Reed must have lived with his whole life.

  He noticed my comprehension and went on. “Look, I’m fearless when it comes to business. It’s a trait I inherited, for better or worse, from my father. But when it comes to my family, most especially my father, I admit I was weak. If I’d been just a little braver, a little earlier, or if I’d tried even the slightest bit to open his narrow mind, perhaps he wouldn’t have inflicted so much damage.”

  “I don’t believe people think—”

  “But I do. And at the end of the day, I have to live with what I did—and didn’t—do. But I can move forward and try to do something worthwhile.”

  He accepted a lot of responsibility for things that were beyond his control. After all, how could a twelve-year-old boy overcome the pressures of his parents? I thought about trying to argue with him. Actually, all I really wanted to do was give him a hug and tell him it wasn’t his fault.

  But Reed wasn’t a twelve-year-old boy anymore. No words would so easily comfort him or take away decades of guilt.

  192“Okay, what do you have planned?” I asked on a lighter

  note. The question snapped him from his sullen contemplation. Reed leaned forward excitedly. “Well, first of all, I’ve worked with my general counsel’s office, and we’ve developed equal opportunity policies for all Johannson companies, including protection for sexual orientation. We are also developing a business workshop for core leadership aimed at promoting inclusion for LGBT staff, including an expanded management trainee program. I want to create a safe and supportive environment for all of our workers— something they just didn’t have when my father was CEO.”

  “That’s quite a bold step for such a large company,” I said.

  “Really, it’s just the beginning. Going forward, I’ve directed my counsel to include provisions in all investment, distribution, and cooperation contracts requiring adoption of and compliance with LGBT-inclusive equal opportunity policies. If a company doesn’t want to comply with that requirement, then the Johannson Corporation will not do business with them. Period.”

  I was impressed. I wondered how long he’d been considering these measures. It was a sea change for such a massive conglomerate. “That will make a big difference in the lives of your employees,” I commended him.

  “Yes, but it isn’t enough. My father hurt so many people who had nothing to do with this company. That’s why I’ve directed the Johannson Foundation, which my father used to funnel money to antigay conservative causes, to build a new gay youth shelter in Manhattan. No kid should suffer the fear I felt when I thought my father was throwing me out.

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  I know he didn’t really abandon me to the streets, but I’ll always remember the terror of that moment. Now, hopefully, more gay kids will always have somewhere to go.”

  I was impressed. It didn’t correct the wrongs of the past, but it was a sorely needed step forward. Reed sat back in his chair, waiting to punctuate his declaration.

  “And it will be named the Howard Johansson Center for LGBT Youth, and will include endowments to pay for the education of those who were unable to finish school.”

  “You named it after your father?”

  “I think it’s appropriate. He did, after all, want to have a lasting legacy.” He winked. I marveled at the final “fuck you” he’d devised for his father. I wondered if he’d thought through the repercussions for the company, whose business partners were accustomed to dealing with his staunchly homophobic father. “Do you think you being open about your sexuality will have an impact on the business?”

  “It might. But the businesses we deal with tend to rely on the Johannson Corporation more than we rely on them. My father knew this, and that’s part of why he was so successful. But if any of our partners find something as irrelevant as my sexuality to be an important factor in whether they’ll deal with us, they’re free to part ways. I won’t stand in their way. But I think they’ll be more focused on profits, and we’re a very lucrative business. If any of them leave, I know there are a hundred companies waiting to take their place.”

  He was right, of course. Businessmen think of their bottom lines, not about whether their associates are bottoms.

  194“Besides,” Reed continued, “on the whole, I’m sure

  they’ll find that I’m a lot easier to deal with than my father. I have the same ambition and drive my father always had, but I won’t sacrifice my conscience to reach my goals. Not anymore.”

  I glanced at my notes and the outline I’d prepared. Without having to ask many questions, we’d managed to cover all the main topics for the article. It was time to wrap up.

  “What do you want people to know?” I asked, intentionally leaving the final question open-ended. I let him choose the subject, as well as the response, but it would reflect what he thought was important.

  “People should know that the Johannson Corporation remains in excellent hands,” he said. Concise, but effective.

  Reed leaned across the desk and switched off the tape recorder. I gathered my notes and reached for the recorder. I was about to thank him for his time, when he spoke.

  “So, Dominic Holland,” he said, and I realized it was the first time he said my full name. “What do you really want to know? Off the record.”

  He caught me off guard. I didn’t expect to have a chance to speak off the record. Questions raced through my mind, but I started with the most obvious. “Why aren’t you mad with me?”

  He laughed softly. “I admit, at first, I did wonder if you had something to do with the article. A couple of weeks before I saw you at Madison Square Garden, I was in a meeting where my father demanded that someone look into your friend. He’d received a call from DC telling him that a journalist was investigating his relationship with one of the

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  senators. Alex Everton’s face was in a dossier, and I recognized him the moment I saw you that night. I could tell you were trying to make sure I didn’t come over, but I watched as your colleague stormed out. So, although you let the cat out of bag, as it were, I know it wasn’t malicious.”

  I was relieved for some reason. For all the recent chaos he’d unwittingly caused in my life, I still couldn’t help finding him alluring. And it wasn’t just the physical attraction. Whether we were fondling each other on a subway or running from security guards in hotels, I couldn’t deny we shared great chemistry.

  “Of course, I didn’t help matters a couple of days later,” he said grimly.

  “Why? Why did you do it? Your name was all over the media, and your father was going out of his way to publicly deny the reports. You knew he was suing the paper for libel. Why didn’t you keep your head down? What possessed you to go into that restroom and risk getting caught?”

  “Oh, I knew it was stupid, but you have to understand the circumstances and the history. I hid my sexuality, who I really am, for so long and from a young age. I knew all hell would break loose if my father found out I’d been with men. So every aspect of my sex life was secret and completely anonymous. Hell, the only reason I saw you more than once was because you are damn hot and I heard your voice outside the subway and knew you were British. I foolishly assumed there was little-to-no chance you could have known who I was.”

  “I didn’t,” I admitted.

  He shook his head at the bad luck. “Well, the problem was that, for years, I
took huge risks every time I fooled

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  around with a guy. I guess, eventually, that risk just became a big part of the foreplay.” “So you couldn’t get off without the fear of getting caught?”

  “Oh, I could get off, but I never felt… satisfied. Know what I mean? The fear of being exposed became so caught up in my sex life, it just became an element that had to be there.” He paused to take a sip. With the glass still held to his lips, as if to shield his words, he said, “Though I won’t lie. All psychobabble aside, I just like public sex a lot.” His gaze lifted from the glass to me with a devilish twinkle.

  Thoughts of taking him, bent over his desk, flashed through my mind. But I resisted, and cleared my throat as I looked away. He took the hint, at least for now.

  “Then that day at the South Street Seaport, I finally went over the edge. With everything going on—my father’s absurdly offensive comments to the hockey player, the scrutiny of the media, the legal action against the paper—I was more at risk of being caught than any other time in my life. I should have been in hiding. But it just increased the risk, and the potential thrill, even more. So I went out that morning, horny as hell, and I got caught,” he said, matter-offactly.

  “So did the thrill live up to your expectations?”

  “My cock was hard in the police car, if that’s what you mean.”

  I jerked my head up, and we locked eyes for a moment. I wasn’t sure if he was joking. After a split second, he burst into laughter. I couldn’t help but laugh out loud, too.

  “That reminds me. Why would someone like you, I mean as wealthy as you, take the subway?”

  197“It was one of the only places I knew I didn’t have eyes

  on me. I rode the subway every day so I could get away from everything for a while.” “So what now? Now that it’s all out in the open, where’s the risk?”

  Reed shook his head. “I really don’t know. Maybe go to a bar and actually try talking to a guy? I guess trying to get him home will be the thrill. I’ve never actually done that. Maybe the challenge will replace the risk.”

  “Oh, poor you. I’m sure it will be such a challenge. ‘Hi, I’m handsome Reed Johannson, the wealthy CEO of one of the largest companies in the world. Can I buy you a drink?’ I’m sure they’ll all flee in horror,” I joked.

  “You think I’m handsome?”

  Maybe he really didn’t know how sexy he was.

  “Oh, come off it. I don’t exactly make a habit of hooking up with unattractive men.”

  He blushed. He actually blushed!

  “I’m serious about that drink. Explore the city together? Maybe a few of the bars or clubs. Hell, if we don’t find one we like, I’ll buy one,” he laughed. “But seriously, you’re new here, and I may as well be.”

  I pondered his offer. “Maybe one day we could even invite Noah Lukas to come along?”

  “Ah yes, I just found out that you know Noah and Callum,”

  “Yeah, Callum is my best friend, though we’d lost touch recently. I had no idea that he had been seeing anyone, let alone a famous hockey player. He’s had a tough time of it, keeping everything under wraps and in the closet over the

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  past three years to protect Noah. But with your father being the way he was, he really didn’t have a choice if Noah wanted to play for The Warriors,” I said remembering the conversation that we’d had the week before. I was stunned when I found out that he was the same Callum that Noah had declared his love to on the public stage. They had both been hurt and offended by Johannson’s remarks, but thankfully had left the venue before he had made them. It was sad that event was the thing that marked the end of Noah’s career. “Hang on. How do you know I know Callum?”

  Reed began to laugh. “You haven’t spoken to them this morning, have you?” “No, I got a message to call him just before I came here but haven’t had a chance to call him back. Why?”

  “Later today I will be issuing a public statement apologizing to Noah for my father’s remarks.”

  “Well, maybe that will go some way to heal the wound,” I said a little relieved. “But I still don’t understand how you know that Callum is a friend of mine.”

  “There will be another announcement,” he said with a smile. “I met with them both this morning and Noah has agreed to sign with The Warriors for another three years.”

  “Seriously?”

  “The deal to buy the team was done before my father died. So that makes me the new owner. And I can do whatever the hell I want! And I want the first openly gay hockey player in the NHL to be on my team. The fans love him anyway, so it makes sense. Well, that and he’s a great player.”

  “So he’s not retiring?”

  “Nope!” 199

  I sat back in the chair for a moment to let it sink in. I knew it meant that it would keep my best friend in the city too. I couldn’t have been happier.

  “So, about that drink?”

  “Sure,” I said. “But for God’s sake, try to keep me out of trouble this time!”

  About the Author

  BEN RYDER was born and raised in England. Though he’s

  proud of his British heritage and homeland, he spends as much time as possible in the American southwest, seeking sunshine, warmth, and cheap tequila. Ben enjoys mud runs, scuba diving, and unabashedly self-effacing mockery. He can be reached at benryderbooks@gmail.com or on Twitter, @benryderbooks.

  By BEN RYDER NOVELLAS Released Noah

  Side Line

  Published byDREAMSPINNER PRESS

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  Copyright

  Released ©Copyright Ben Ryder, 2013 Published by

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  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the authors’ imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Cover Photograph by Scott Henrichsen Cover Design by Paul Richmond

  Cover content is being used for illustrative purposes only and any person depicted on the cover is a model. This book is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution via any means is illegal and a violation of International Copyright Law, subject to criminal prosecution and upon conviction, fines, and/or imprisonment. This eBook cannot be legally loaned or given to others. No part of this eBook can be shared or reproduced without the express permission of the Publisher. To request permission and all other inquiries, contact Dreamspinner Press at: 5032 Capital Circle SW Ste 2, PMB# 279, Tallahassee, FL 32305-7886, USA.

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  Digital ISBN: 978-1-62380-778-8 Printed in the United States of America First Edition

  August 2013